


Reclaiming Winter

by KatBarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Humor, Brainwashing, Bucky being all domesticated and shit, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, Explicit Language, F/M, Flashbacks, Humiliation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Romance, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture, Work In Progress, ending like a chainsaw to the face, obvious metal arm infatuation is obvious, pop culture references because I like to think I'm a clever little weasel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatBarnes/pseuds/KatBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[I'm currently in the process of rewriting most of this thing cuz to be blunt I feel like it deserves better than what I managed to do with it so far, especially considering what I have planned for it in the upcoming chapters.<br/>So yeah, it won't be updated until I feel happy with it again.<br/>The plot's going to stay basically the same but there will be some differences here and there, some minor, some more substantial.<br/>I apologize if I seem like I've been neglecting it but honestly I literally do stuff to it everyday, it's just taking time and I hope that in the end it'll be worth it. ^_^]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's a fair bit of russian in this chapter, translations below are in the notes after the chapter.  
> Also thank you to the people that messaged me on tumblr and helped me settle on the title for this, without you guys I probably would have flailed helplessly for a few more hours before naming it something completely ridiculous!

You sprang awake, startled from your sleep by a loud noise that was still vaguely reverberating off of your bedroom walls. You quickly sat up in your bed and listened intently, trying to steady your breath and keep it as quiet as possible.  
 ***SMASH. BANG. CRASH.***  
You jumped again, your breath getting caught in your throat.  
It was definitely coming from inside your apartment, it sounded like it was down the hall in the living room.  
  
 _Fuck. What do I do?_  
  
Then you remembered the knife that you always kept stashed in your bedside draw in case of a situation just as this so you fumbled it open and snatched the blade up, it wasn't anything special but it was sharp so it’d do. You slid out of bed and tiptoed over to the door, opened it as quietly as possible and peeked out into the dim hallway. It lead straight down to the living room and you could see the soft yellow glow of the lamp you always left on through the slightly open door. You also noted that you couldn't see any shadows moving on the walls.  
  
 _It could've just been an animal that got in somehow._  You sighed with resignation.  _But I still need to check, I’ll never get back to sleep otherwise._  
  
You slipped out of your room and carefully made your way down the hall, holding the knife close against you with both hands. Outside the living room door you stopped to listen and were greeted with complete silence. Still, you refused to move for a good couple of minutes just in case. Hearing nothing but the sound of your own hushed breathing and the faint drone of a few passing cars during that time you reached forward and pushed the door open further and then took tentative step inside.  
The room was a complete trash. Your glass coffee table was smashed, as were a number of pictures that had fallen, or been thrown, to the ground, the sofa was pushed across the room and ornaments were scattered and broken everywhere.  
  
You were so overwhelmed by shock and busy surveying the damage to your usually tidy living space that you didn’t notice the figure step out of the shadows to your right. By the time it registered in your peripheral vision it was too late and you were slammed up against the wall.   
  
The figure ripped the knife from your grasp and threw it away with considerable force. You heard a metallic thud as it struck the far wall of the room.  
It’s attention turned back to you.  
“Кто ты?” The figure barked.  
Your panicked vision focused. It was a man. A man with long unkempt dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes and a good deal of stubble dusted over his chin, cheeks and upper lip.  
Then your eyes drifted to his left arm, the one not covered in leather and the one that he wasn’t using to pin you to the wall. It was reflecting the light from the lamp and you could just about make out the red star on the shoulder.  
  
 _Oh my god._  
  
You knew who he was and so did your close friend Steve Rogers. The man pressing you up against the wall of your apartment whilst growling Russian words at you was none other than the Winter Soldier.  
You had seen the incident between him and Steve on the news, the two men going at each other had been broadcast in shaky footage shot from a helicopter overhead. Steve had also spoken to you in confidence about it briefly afterwards and how he and Sam planned to track him down.  
  
 _I bet he didn't think to look this close to home.._  
  
“Кто ты?” The soldier repeated, louder this time and with a forceful push against your chest for emphasis.  
  
You thought fast to remember the Russian your grandmother had taught you as a child. “Зимний Солдат.”  
  
His eyes softened ever so slightly and he seemed to hesitate the tiniest bit, “Вы знаете, кто я?” He asked, his voice low. Still his grip hadn't loosened on you, he wasn't stupid enough to risk that after all.   
  
You thought again, seeking out the right words. “Я также знаю, кто ты есть на самом деле.”  
Of course Steve had also told you the Winter Soldier’s real identity, who he’d been before HYDRA had turned him into a deadly and remarkably efficient weapon.  
  
His eyes bore into yours, seemingly waiting for you to enlighten him.  
  
You took a deep breath and let the name roll off of your tongue. “James Buchanan Barnes.”  
  
His reaction was almost instant. His grip on you slipped and he staggered backwards until he struck the opposing wall. He gripped his head with both his hands and slid down to the floor, crouching on his knees as he began to shudder and shake.  
“Нет, нет, нет, нет, нет, нет..”  
  
You weren't quite sure what you should do. One part of your mind was screaming at you to bolt out of the building and call Steve whilst running and not looking back but the other.. the other gently suggested that you couldn't leave this guy like this. When it really came down to it he was just another victim of this whole mess after all.  
  
 _Screw it._  
  
With a small sigh you approached and crouched down in front of the Winter Soldier. You remained still for a few moments, watching for any sign of reproach from him. Then, extremely carefully, you lay your hand on his right shoulder.  
He was hyperventilating and his eyes held a thousand yard stare, piercing directly through you. He hadn't seemed to notice your touch or hadn't reacted to it at least.  
  
“Heyyy, it’ll be okay. What happened to you was messed up beyond understanding but.. things can be alright again I promise.” You tried to make your words sound as reassuring as possible but considering his situation you realised they probably sounded like complete nonsense.   
You felt him twitch slightly under your hand and took it as a sign that he could hear you.  
“Look at me..”  
To your surprise his eyes flickered and focused on you. Gone was the cold and ruthless expression of the Soviet trained assassin, replaced instead by one of fear, unease and utter sadness. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears that he hadn't allowed to fall.  
You smiled as best you could and spoke the only words your mind could string together in that moment, “You’re going to be okay, Bucky.”  
  
And with that, he broke. He collapsed forwards onto you, his weight causing you to fall backwards and land on your butt. He was bent over, somewhat in your lap, his back heaving up and down as he began to let out all the pain he’d been holding in for what you had no doubt was a hell of a long time. Instinctively, one of your hands went to rest on his shoulder blade and the other on the back of his head. You flinched and tried your hardest to hold back a surprised yelp as his arms suddenly encompassed your body, burying his face against you and continuing to cry.   
  
 _Is this really happening?_ _I’m on my living room floor, shit’s broken everywhere and the Winter Soldier's crying in my lap? Holy hell._  
  
After a short while his sobs quieted a little and you looked down at him just as he turned his head up to face you, hair clinging to his wet cheeks.  
  
“Помогите..” His voice cracked. “Пожалуйста, помогите.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Кто ты? - Who are you?  
> Зимний Солдат. - Winter Soldier.  
> Вы знаете, кто я? - You know who I am?  
> Я также знаю, кто ты есть на самом деле - I also know who you really are.  
> Нет, нет, нет, нет, нет, нет.. - No, no, no, no, no, no..  
> Помогите.. - Help..  
> Пожалуйста, помогите - Please help.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to wholeheartedly thank the people that sent me messages saying that they enjoyed the first chapter and were looking forward to this one. Honestly, you don’t know how much that means to me. ^_^ <3

_Did he just..? Really..?_  
  
Pushing everything else to the back of your mind you decided that you needed to get him up off of the floor and onto something more comfortable.  
  
“Bucky, I need you to stand up for me.” To your relief the words came out as softly as you’d intended them to, the last thing you wanted to do right now was sound harsh and like you were trying to order him around.  
  
He seemed to process what you said for a few seconds before he lifted himself off of you and staggered to his feet, struggling a little at first to regain his sense of balance. You followed suit.  
That was the moment that you first noticed just how tall he was, you estimated that he stood at least a whole foot higher than you. It should have made him almost unbearably intimidating but right now, if anyone had asked you, you could have honestly said that you weren’t scared of him. Sensibly cautious? Maybe. But not scared.  
  
“Come on.” You gently tugged on his arm, coaxing him further into the room. You lead him to your now haphazardly positioned sofa and motioned for him to sit down. What you witnessed next was quite possibly one of the most bizarre things you’d ever seen; the Winter Soldier, looking somewhat wary, slowly lowering himself onto your sofa and sinking into it’s soft cushions, sinking perhaps a little too much for his liking judging by the tiny hint of panic that you noticed sweep across his features. His leather vest creaked as he settled and sat there bolt upright, which set your mind to wondering how comfortable, or uncomfortable for that matter, all that tactical gear must be.  
  
 _Okay, think dammit. What always makes you feel better?_  
  
“How do you like your coffee?”   
  
 _Coffee, really? This dude’s been brainwashed, tortured and forced to kill for 70 years and you offer him coffee?_  
  
Still, it’s not like you had any better ideas so you went with it.  
“I mean, that is assuming you like it. If not then I’m sure I can find you something-”  
  
He cut you off with a single word, speaking in English for the first time. “Black.”  
  
 _Huh, I could have guessed._  
  
Your kitchen and living room were an open plan kind of arrangement, the sofa acting as a makeshift divider between the carpet and linoleum. You filled the kettle, flicked down the switch and once it was boiled, set to work making drinks for both of you, yours with a butt ton of milk and entirely too much sugar.   
Once you’d finished you took a cup in each hand and made your way around in front of the sofa, Bucky hadn’t moved an inch it seemed.   
He looked up at you as you neared. You smiled and held out the cup filled with the darker liquid to him which he hesitantly took with his left hand, his metal fingers clinking against the ceramic.  
You took a seat in the armchair to the right of him, getting comfortable before sipping your coffee.  
  
The silence spun out for a long time, you had no idea what to say and Bucky seemingly didn’t see a need to fill it.  
He just sat there, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, taking occasional gulps of coffee.  
  
Your nerves couldn’t take it, you had to say something. “You know, I’m really close to Steve and he told me everything.” You glanced sideways at him once the words were past your lips. “All about the Project Insight incident and what happened between you two on that helicarrier before it nosedived into the lake.”  
  
Bucky displayed no reaction but you were sure he was listening.  
  
You continued, looking down into your almost empty cup. “He said he could have sworn that you recognised him before he fell, that you had a certain look that was just like the old Bucky he grew up with.” You paused, not entirely sure if you wanted to speak the words that were on the tip of your tongue but Bucky saved you the trouble of having to make that choice.  
  
He shifted, making you jump a little. “I-I hardly remember that day. Every memory I have is hazy and muddled and I can’t tell which are real and which aren’t.” His expression was one of sheer exhaustion and sad confusion that threatened to rip your heart in two the longer you looked at it.  
  
The silence descended again and you felt awful.   
“Maybe some rest would help?” It was the only thing you could think of to say but hey, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.  
  
His eyes met yours and a chill streaked it’s way down your spine before you had a chance to suppress it. He nodded slowly.  
  
 _God, why does he have to have those damn soul piercing eyes?_  
  
You gathered the cups and put them in the sink ready to wash tomorrow morning, you’d be damned if you were doing something so menial as washing dishes right now. You turned to find that Bucky had stood up and was watching you intently and you discovered it was hard not to be conscious of your every move while under that gaze, he seemed to be analysing your every movement. You weren’t at all sure what he could be looking for.  
  
“Let me get you some pillows and a cover and you can have the sofa.” You stammered before scurrying off back down the hallway to your room.   
You sighed, relieved to be out of Bucky’s sight, having him stare you down like that was really nerve racking.  
After rummaging around in the closet, kicking all manner of crap out of your way in the process, you found what you came for, piled the items in your arms and stepped out into the hall again, padding back towards the living room.  
  
You stopped dead in your tracks at the sight before you as you entered the room.   
  
Bucky was still stood there but he had removed his leather vest and was currently sliding the turtleneck that he wore under it over his head, revealing his muscular torso beneath.  
  
 _Well I’ll be damned.. he’s almost as jacked as Steve. Common sense decided to kick in at that moment._ _Stop gawking at him before he notices, you idiot. This isn’t the time or place!_  
  
Thankfully he’d been too preoccupied with slowly folding up his clothing and draping it on the chair to notice and you tore your eyes away from him quickly, making your way over to place the pillows and cover neatly on the sofa for him. You silently praised yourself for deciding to buy such a spacious one after all, you couldn’t bare to imagine the awkwardness if you’d had to tell this guy that he had to try and wedge himself onto a couch made for a hobbit.  
  
When you were through you turned to find Bucky standing and observing you again.  
  
 _Seriously, dude?_  
  
As much as you tried to keep them level your eyes couldn’t stop themselves from giving him a quick once over.  
The way the light fell on his body from this angle made him look like one of those stunning marble statues, both soft and harsh hues blending together and hugging the curves of his muscles. Shadows crowded most of his face but the blue of his eyes was still partially visible and his bedraggled hair somehow managed to look perfect in that roguish way that many men think they can pull off but that few actually can.  
  
He brushed past you and sat down close to where you’d placed the pillows.  
  
 _Okay seriously, get a grip. Say goodnight and leave!_    
  
“If you need anything then I’m just down the hall so just shout.. or something and I’ll hear you.” You kept your eyes glued to anything but him as you said this, you couldn’t bear to look at him again. You were tired and the last thing you wanted or needed was an image of this guy looking up at you with those god damn eyes. But any hopes of saving yourself from that were erased when you felt his hand, the human one, around your wrist.  
  
You gasped, your gaze flicking from his hand on you to his face and back again.   
You were taken aback, somehow in that moment he managed to look younger, his dark circles and the tightness in his lips almost seemed to melt away before your eyes.  
  
“Thank you.” He said quietly, holding onto you for just a few seconds longer before letting go.  
  
“You’re welcome. Goodnight Bucky.” You stammered before turning quickly and leaving the room on legs that were not entirely steady.  
  
Finally back in your room you flopped into the bed, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past hour or so. You couldn’t quite understand how you’d managed to stay so calm or why you weren’t currently fearing for your life.  
  
 _Because I know he won’t hurt me._  
  
That thought actually scared you because you had no idea where it had come from or the logic behind it. You knew you couldn’t know that for sure, it was ludicrous to even suggest such a claim. There was a chillingly ruthless and deadly assassin in your living room right now who could sneak into your room whilst you were sleeping without making a single peep. You wouldn’t have any idea that he was there until he’d skillfully sliced open your carotid artery, at which point he’d probably walk away with no remorse whatsoever whilst you bled out helplessly.  
  
That and may other gruesome scenarios ran through your head whilst you stared up at the ceiling, each one more horrific and callous than the last and you knew that none of them were unrealistic considering his stealth and strength.  
So why were you still not scared of the Winter Soldier?  
  
You had one final thought before sleep overwhelmed you;  _ **former**  Winter Soldier._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to be quite a hell of a lot longer than this, with actual dramatic stuff happening but I felt guilty about taking so long on it and decided to cut it off at a suitable point. But hey, at least that means I have a head start on chapter 4 and I know exactly what I’m doing with it. :’)

For the first time in weeks you woke up naturally. No blaring alarm, no early morning phone call, no noisy traffic outside your window. You glanced over at your clock and holy fuck you’d overslept, it was almost 2pm.  
  
 _Oh shit, shit, shit!_  As you flailed in your covers last night’s events came rushing back to you and you froze. _.._ _Is he still here?_  
  
You slid out of bed and quickly changed into jeans and an over sized t-shirt, all the while moments from last night were replaying in your head.   
“Urgh.” You grumbled, glancing in the mirror and giving your hair a quick ruffle here and there, trying to go from ‘I’ve just woken up and not even acknowledged the existence of my hairbrush’ to ‘this is totally how I styled it and it took a lot of effort’.  
You figured that Bucky would be long gone, that he’d probably slipped out of the window before the sun had even come up. But.. he’d asked you for help hadn’t he? You still had no idea how you were meant to even begin to go about doing that.  
  
You mused upon this thought as you walked to the living room. Upon tentatively opening the door you saw that Bucky was still there after all. He was sat on the sofa, reading one of your books.  
  
 _Well, at least he’s got some clothes on now._  
  
He didn’t look up or acknowledge that you’d entered the room and quite frankly, being someone who enjoys reading a lot, you didn’t wish to disturb him. You made a quick trip to the bathroom before coming back out and heading over to the kitchen area where you poured two glasses of orange juice and then began to look through your cupboards, weighing up your food options but everything looked bland and unappealing. You vowed to order takeaway later.  
  
You took the glasses one in each hand and went and settled into the same arm chair you’d sat in at some point during the early hours of this morning. Setting Bucky’s drink down on the floor beside the sofa you realised that all the broken glass and various other stuff from Bucky’s late night living room rampage was gone.  
  
 _Did he.. clean up?_ _No one else could have._  
  
You glanced across at him. His eyes were studying the words on the book’s pages with a fierce intensity and concentration. Your gaze drifted down to the cover of the book; One World Divisible: A Global History Since 1945.  
You gulped and looked back up to Bucky’s face to find that he was looking at you now. You were about to ask him if he’d tidied up but he spoke before you could get the words out.  
  
“How many of the atrocities in this book have I been involved in?” He glanced down quickly at the pages. “Wars, assassinations, terrorism, bombings, mass shootings. How many deaths did I cause? How many times was I the one that pulled the trigger?” He gritted his teeth and gripped the book tightly.  
  
 _Oh shit, I need to try and diffuse this._  
  
You scooted over to the sofa to sit next to him. “Bucky..”  
  
“NO!” He roared and hurled the book past your head almost too fast for you to register although you jumped at the sound it made as it hit the floor. “THAT IS NOT MY NAME!” The cold, hard look that you’d observed in his eyes when he’d had you pinned up against the wall had returned and you shrunk back a little.  
  
 _‘Former Winter Soldier’, huh?_ You had to admit that your certainty went down a peg or two for a moment.  
  
Bucky’s breathing was ragged, both his fists were clenched and rested on his knees.  
  
Without even a wisp of forethought you reached out with both hands and placed them on his cheeks. For an instant his expression was indescribable; pure murderous rage veiled thinly by complete coldness. You guessed that it was his natural instinct upon being unexpectedly touched but it didn’t last long regardless, a couple of seconds later and all trace of it was gone, replaced by another look that you’d seen last night; sadness and terror.  
  
“I shouldn’t be here. I’m a loaded weapon. I’m a monster and I’ll end up hurting you.” His voice wavered slightly. “I don’t want to hurt anyone any more.”  
  
You made sure that he was looking you in the eyes by moving his face slightly. “Listen to me, you are not a bad person. Yes you’ve killed people, done things that started horrible conflicts and caused a whole lot of suffering and honestly, I shudder to think how many times it was your finger that pulled the trigger but it wasn’t your choice or your will that put you in those situations. Put simply, you were used as a weapon, as a chillingly efficient tool to do other people’s dirty work behind the scenes. The people who ordered you to do those things, the people that shipped you out to god knows where with a kill order and a gun, they’re the bad people. You are not anything close to resembling a monster, you’re James Buchanan Barnes and from what I’ve heard about you you’re a good man.”   
  
He made no attempt to answer you, you had a feeling that he couldn’t even if he’d wanted to but what he did do was close his eyes and lean into your touch a little, ever so slightly pressing his cheek into your left hand.   
You stayed like that for a while, not wanting to lower your hands. You figured it was probably the first affectionate contact he’d had since before everything had turned bad for him and if he wanted to enjoy that then hell, who were you to deny him?  
  
Eventually Bucky opened his eyes and spoke. “I remembered something last night.”   
  
You took that as your queue and slowly took your hands away from his face, his eyes following them as you did. “Oh yeah? Do you want to tell me?” You couldn’t be sure if that’s why he’d mentioned it and obviously didn’t want to presume.   
  
He nodded slowly, his expression growing distant almost like he felt guilty.  
  
“I couldn’t sleep, I tried to but I don’t think it’s something that I’ve exactly been used to doing in a while.  
A memory came back to me though, almost like someone had cleared away a patch of fog in my brain. All of a sudden it was there and it was vivid.”   
He looked at you as if to check that it was okay to carry on, you nodded.  
“I was being taken into a room, I remember the smell of disinfectant and a chair in the corner. They, whoever took me there, pushed me down into it and someone started doing something to my arm.”  
  
He glanced down at his left arm and his gaze got stuck there, he seemed to zoned out.   
  
After about a minute or so you gave his human arm a little tap. “What happened next Bucky? I assume they were making adjustments or repairs to your arm, what happened after that?” You spoke softly.  
  
He shook his head slightly as if to clear it and resumed without a hitch. “That’s the only part I can’t remember, it all goes hazy for a little while and the next thing I see clearly is a man in front of me. He asked me to report on my last mission but.. I couldn’t answer him. He asked and asked until he lost his patience and hit me.”  
  
You sat up a little straighter. “Do.. you think that’s something that happened often?” You weren’t really sure you wanted him to answer.  
  
“I’m not sure but it felt familiar. After he hit me he sat down and started praising the things that I’d done, how I was helping to make the world a better place but after a while he stopped talking and I think he must have seen something in my face that he didn’t like. Perhaps it wasn’t like it usually was, perhaps he saw that I wasn’t completely compliant or.. submissive. I was aware of things, I knew that it wasn’t my choice to be there and these people were keeping me held against my will somehow. The man stood up and walked away a little and then I heard him say it. He said ‘Wipe him and start over.’ On any other occasion those words wouldn’t have had any meaning to me, I would have sat there and been oblivious to everything but this time.. this time I knew what they meant.”  
  
He paused, gasping for breath and sounding like he was about to cry.   
  
“Bucky, you don’t have to carry on if it’s too much for you. You’ve done really well.” You smiled, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t looking at you.  
  
It was true, you couldn’t begin to comprehend how hard it must be for him to talk about something like that. Did you really want to hear the rest of this memory? Honestly no you didn’t, what he’d described so far was horrible enough and you felt nauseous when you tried to imagine what those words could mean and what they subsequently meant for him. But also you wondered what effect talking about this was actually having on Bucky. Was it helping him to get it all out or was it detrimental for him to replay these images through his mind?  
  
You leaned down and grabbed his glass from the floor. “Here, at least have a drink.” You pleaded and held it out to him. He took it from you with trembling hands, brought it up to his mouth and took a few gulps before thrusting it back into your grip. He seemed determined to carry on.   
  
Bucky licked his lips before continuing. “The worst thing was.. that I knew what was coming. That time I knew. I remembered everything from when it had happened before, the noises, the smell, the lights. I knew how much.. how much it was going to hurt. Like thousands of knives in my head. I knew..” His voice cracked on the last few words and he lowered his chin to his chest.   
  
 _Oh fuck. This guy really has had some awful, awful shit done to him._  
  
You set the glass back down on the floor quickly and shuffled a little closer to him without really knowing what your intent was, you just felt like you should be closer. He looked at you questioningly through the veil of his hair as you approached. You reached out to him and he seemed to shrink away a little, whether out of fear or disgust you couldn’t really tell.  
  
“It’s okay, I was just gonna hold you. I figured you might want some comfort but if you don’t want me to then that’s fine too.” You spoke delicately. “Do you want me to?”  
  
Bucky regarded you a little longer, probably weighing up the perceived danger that he could be opening himself up to. You had to remind yourself that this guy wasn’t used to affection or comfort, he had seemingly only been subjected to cold words and heavy hands. To your surprise he nodded his head and turned his body towards you, his hair swaying around his face.   
  
You smiled and slowly wrapped yours arms around his shoulders, as much as you could manage anyway since their span was pretty formidable. When you felt that he was comfortable with your touch you carefully rested your chin in the crook of his neck, his hair cushioning your right cheek. Bucky’s head, still bowed, had settled to lean against your right shoulder.   
  
 _Well, this is something I certainly didn’t bank on ever being a thing._  
  
The last thing you wanted to do was appear creepy but with your face practically pressing against his skin you couldn’t help but breathe him in. The smell of leather was obviously there, that deep, almost intoxicating scent. But he himself smelt surprisingly different, a dark and heavy aroma. It was something akin to engine oil, the metallic and slightly tangy smell of old coins and a peculiar but heady earthy hint. You would have expected that mixture to smell quite pungent but you had to admit that it was actually pretty damn nice.  
  
Bucky was still shaking slightly, you could feel the tiny tremors reverberating through you. You tightened your grip, in doing so pulling him a little closer and moved your right hand up to touch the back of his head. His body gave a quick jolt at the sensation but he made no attempt to object. You intertwined your fingers in his hair loosely before stroking down towards his neck.  
  
“Why are you doing this?” He murmured against your shirt.  
  
“Why am I doing what?” You questioned, wondering if you’d overstepped your boundary after all.  
  
“Treating me.. nicely.”   
  
You pulled back from him a little ways, maintaining contact by sliding your hands down his arms. He raised his head before you answered him. “Why wouldn’t I treat you that way? You’ve gone through some truly horrific stuff and what I think you need now is to relax and, if you accept it, be supported by people that want to help. I’d see myself as a pretty horrible person if I was anything other than nice to you.”  
  
Bucky nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re not a horrible person.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter certainly changed a lot from what I originally planned it to be like. I think it turned out for the better though, so yay to fate and sudden flashes of inspiration.
> 
> Thank you once again for the support, you guys are the best. :) <3

You didn’t know how to react to his flattery, if that’s even what it actually was, and your mouth spewed out the first thing that your brain transmitted to it.  
“Perhaps a shower might do you some good?”  
  
 _Slick. Real slick._  
  
You attempted to back peddle. “Not that I’m trying to imply that you stink or anything, you actually smell nice but..” You stopped mid sentence as you realised what you’d said. Why were you all of a sudden seemingly so flustered and unable to speak properly?   
  
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, a vertical line appearing between them and he tilted his head to one side, perplexed.  
  
 _God he must think I’m such a weirdo. Okay, breathe._  
  
“Ignore that. What I meant to say was maybe a nice shower will help you relax and ease your mind a little?” You stammered.  
  
His expression didn’t change or falter.  
  
You stood up and started to walk towards the bathroom with an exasperated sigh. “Urgh, just follow me before I make more of an idiot out of myself.”  
  
You couldn’t be sure but you thought you heard a brief, low chuckle from behind you, although it could easily have been a product of your imagination at this point. You glanced over your shoulder and were pleased to see that Bucky was actually following you.  
  
You opened the bathroom door as he stopped beside you, peering in.   
  
You gestured to the cluttered counter top that spanned the left wall, it was littered with all kinds of differently coloured bottles; shampoos, conditioners, shower gels, body scrubs, ect. “Feel free to use whatever you want, I, err kinda seem to accumulate toiletry stuff like mad somehow so I have plenty to spare. Towels are in the cupboard to the right of the sink, use whichever you fancy.”  
  
Bucky walked forward through the doorway, looking around curiously before reaching up and starting to unfasten the straps of his jacket.  
  
 _Holy hell. Again, seriously?_   
  
Well, he was obviously comfortable with the situation so you quickly turned to leave, stopped and then turned back, thinking that you should probably try and explain that your shower is a little temperamental, it had to be set with a precision akin to that of what you imagine you’d need to use to defuse a bomb otherwise you’d be either frozen or incinerated in 7 seconds flat. You opened your mouth to speak but had to look away again instantly when you realised that he was in the process of sliding his jacket down his arms. He obviously had no qualms with shedding his clothes at every opportunity and probably didn’t care how much you saw but you weren’t sure if you could quite handle that sight again right now. You walked away hurriedly and made your way to your room.   
  
Once inside you perched on the edge of your bed and sighed heavily. Finally alone again your mind began to wander.   
  
_This is absolutely crazy. I still don’t know why he’s here, how he got in, if anyone’s looking for him. I need to find out somehow but I kinda feel like I can’t ask._  
 _Maybe I should just call Steve? That’d be the simplest thing to do surely? Steve would come running as soon as I mention Bucky’s name and he'd know how to deal with this mess._  
  
You knew that you should have called him as soon as you had a chance and you already felt guilty about not doing that but.. was now the right time? You had a feeling that seeing Steve again at this point would be too much for Bucky, he’d flipped when he’d read a simple history book so god only knows what’d happen if his lifelong best friend, that he was ordered to kill, almost killed and then rescued from drowning, suddenly showed up.  
You eyed your phone that was sat charging on the night stand to the left of your bed.  
  
 _No, not yet._  
  
What you had decided that you did need to do however was find Bucky something else to wear, you couldn’t expect him to wear his Winter Soldier ensemble for however long he planned to stay.   
  
Due to your penchant for wearing them you had plenty of large shirts and sweaters so that was one half sorted, the other half on the other hand could be a little more troublesome.  
  
 _The guy sure has got a skinny little waist on him but I’m sure his legs wouldn’t fit in any of my jeans and well.. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate being given a skirt._  
  
You smiled briefly to yourself at the mental image of Bucky in a flouncy skirt, the look on his face being one of unbridled murderous intent. Then you remembered the pile of crap behind your door, various things that you’d sorted out during a tidy up session that you had been meaning to throw away but kept forgetting to actually do so.  
  
You got up and crouched down next to it, rummaged through it a little and pulled out what you were looking for when you spotted it. A black pair of men’s jeans. They belonged to an ex boyfriend of yours, he’d accidentally left them not long before shit had gone south between the two of you and he’d never cared to ask for them back. Obviously this wasn’t the ideal option and it really didn’t feel right on some level but at the current time there wasn’t exactly any other choice.   
  
You stood up, held onto the waistband and let the jeans drop to their full length. You thought they looked about the right size.   
  
Draping them over your arm you stepped over to your wardrobe to grab a shirt to go with them and opened the doors. A smile spread on your face, you already had an idea of which one you were going to pick out. You spotted it and pulled it from it’s hanger. It joined the jeans on your arm.  
  
You unplugged your phone and slipped it into your pocket before leaving the room and heading back down the hall, bringing the clothes with you.  
  
Back in the living room you placed the garments over the back of the armchair and located the remote to the tv, which had luckily escaped being damaged. Pushing the power button you sat down on the sofa, tucking your legs up under you. There wasn’t anything you specifically wanted to watch, it was more for background noise than anything else. Speaking of background noise you realised that the shower had stopped running.  
  
 _Oh good, he managed to figure out how to turn it off. A flooded bathroom is one thing I’m grateful for not having to deal with right now._  
  
The floorboards in the bathroom creaked in a familiar way and from that you could picture exactly where he was standing; in front of the cupboard where you told him the towels were. As usual your mind had to go into a little more detail and presented you with an image of Bucky stood naked, droplets of water falling from his hair and rolling down his muscular back.  
  
 _Jesus christ, that’s quite enough of that thanks! Seriously, regardless of everything else, I don’t know this guy and he’s been here for less than 24 hours, I have no business imagining him naked._   
  
You shook your head and turned your attention back to the tv hoping for a distraction. The floorboards creaked some more and you knew he was coming out.  
  
 _Please have put your old clothes back on, for the love of god please have put your old clothes back o-oooh for fuck’s sake.._  
  
Bucky walked out, a large white towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller red one in his hands, rubbing at his hair roughly. You watched him move further into the room out of the corner of your eye. As he neared it became apparent that your vivid image concerning the water droplets had been some kind of smutty psychic vision and you tried your hardest not to watch as a few trickled down the broad muscular expanse of his chest then over his ridiculously well defined abs until they reached and soaked into the towel. You were pretty positive that if he were to cough or make any sudden movement then the white cotton would give up the ghost, unravel and end up pooled at his feet because right now it looked as though it was clinging on for dear life.  
  
“Are you hot?”   
  
His voice startled you and a bazaar squeak escaped your throat, causing you to snap your gaze upwards instantly. “W-what?”  
  
He lowered the smaller towel, his hair a ruffled mess. “I asked if you’re hot. Your face is red.”  
  
“Oh, err yeah. I don’t cope with the heat very well.” This wasn’t exactly untrue and you offered a small smile. “Those clothes are for you by the way.” You nodded pointedly towards them.  
  
Bucky glanced over at the armchair before looking back to you. “For me? Why?”  
  
“Well if you want to carry on strapping yourself up in leather in this heat then be my guest but I thought you might want something a little more comfortable.”   
  
As with the chuckle it could have been your imagination but you thought that you saw a glimmer of an expression briefly cross Bucky’s features, an expression of sincere gratitude and confusion.   
  
You swung your legs out from under you and stood up. “Okay, I’m gonna step out for a couple of minutes. At least consider putting them on, okay?”  
  
He nodded as you walked out into the hall, closing the door behind you. As soon as it was shut all the way you promptly slumped against the wall and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds.  
  
 _Food. Food sounds like a good idea right now._  
  
You slipped your phone from your pocket and scrolled through your contacts until you came upon the name of the pizza place that you frequented. People, Steve in particular, made fun of you for storing takeaway numbers in your phone but you honestly didn’t see the shame in it. You dialled the number and upon being greeted asked for your usual adding on a Hawaiian for Bucky, you figured you couldn’t really go too wrong with ham and pineapple. The guy on the phone chatted to you for a couple of minutes, updating you on the puppy he’d previously told you that he’d bought the last time you’d called and that his wife had a new job. You didn’t mind, every second that you spent on the phone meant that you had less and less chance of walking back into the living room at the exact moment that Bucky happened to be sliding the jeans up onto those awesome hips of his. You gulped, dragging your mind back out of the gutter. You made your excuses to the pizza guy, thanked him and hung up. Reaching out and placing your hand on the doorknob, you hesitated for a moment before plucking up the courage and swinging it open.  
  
Bucky was sat on the sofa and despite you doubting that he would, he had changed into the clothes. The first thing that struck you was how different his posture was. When he’d been trussed up in his jacket he’d sat so straight and upright but now he looked pretty relaxed, as far as descriptions go ‘slumped’ didn’t quite cut it but all in all it wasn’t a bad choice of word. His legs were also splayed pretty far apart and you you noticed that the jeans were a damn good fit after all.   
  
“I ordered some food, I hope you like pizza.” You said as you plopped onto the cushion next to him.   
  
Your eyes drifted down to the shirt you gave him and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It’d somehow slipped your mind that what you’d picked out for him was a teal green tank top with the word ‘DORK’ written across the chest in big white letters.  
  
Your laughter startled him and he shot a semi horrified glance at you. “Yes, I do but I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”  
  
You waved your hand dismissively at him, looking away as you tried to dampen down your giggles. “I’ll tell you later.”  
  
————————  
  
Your buzzer sounded loudly and you shot to your feet, rushing to the counter to grab your keys and purse.  
  
Bucky sat up, “What’s that?” He looked a little on edge, just the instinct that had been drilled into him again you guessed.  
  
“Pizza!” You called over your shoulder, bounding from the living room to the entranceway.   
  
You unlocked the door with no trouble but in the process of pulling it open you managed to drop your purse. The next thing you knew you were pushed up against the wall and held there solidly, a hand pressed roughly over your mouth. Your attacker was male and clad in a black shirt and trousers, another stepped through the door swiftly and closed it silently behind him. The man holding you didn’t take his eyes off of you whilst the other scoped out the immediate area before coming back around to stand on your left, between you and the door.  
  
He pressed his mouth up against your ear and you tried to flinch away but couldn’t. “Where’s the soldier?” He whispered. Despite being so close he was obviously being careful to keep his voice as quiet as possible but he didn’t negate the threatening tone from his words.  
  
 _The soldier?_ For a moment you literally had no idea what he meant but then it clicked. _Oh my god, they know he’s here. How? How could they possibly know?_   
  
You shook your head as best you could considering the weight of the hand against your face.  
  
You felt the lips at your ear curl into a smile. “Don’t play fucking dumb, we know he’s here. If the idea of cleaning his splattered brains off of your wall doesn’t appeal to you then I suggest you tell us which room he’s in.” The malice in his voice this time was palpable.  
  
Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes and fell before you had a chance to try and hold them back.   
  
The man holding you spoke next, equally as quiet. “Awww look at this, she’s crying over the asset. Sweet.” His voice and the smile plastered on his face were sickeningly mocking.  
  
 _Asset? Is that what they call him?_  
  
The man to your left pulled his face back to look at you. “Very sweet.” He ridiculed before plunging his face back against you, this time a little lower down, his lips brushing your neck. “Last chance sweetheart, if you tell me where he is then we’ll take him alive and I’ll leave you.. untouched.” He accented the last word by sliding his hand briefly along your hip.  
  
Your mind raced thinking desperately of ways you could attract Bucky’s attention but there was no possible way. _Oh god. I don’t have a choice. Fuck, I’m so sorry._  
  
You closed your eyes in defeat and nodded weakly. The man holding you slackened and lifted his hand ever so slightly from your mouth so that you could be heard.   
  
“Living room. Down this hall.”  
  
You’d hardly gotten the last word out before being dragged into the small laundry room just off to the right and shoved against the back of the door after it was closed, your mouth once again covered. You tried to listen for any sound but there was none to be heard for at least a few minutes until finally came a couple of muffled thuds and then words.   
  
“With me, asset. Now.”  
  
More silence.  
  
“I won’t hesitate to fill you with fuckin’ holes if I even suspect that you’re gonna come at me. Come willingly or I’ll be forced to use the shutdown code. You got 5 whole seconds to comply.”  
  
They were the longest 5 seconds of your life, seeming to spin out for minutes as you strained to listen. Surely Bucky could take these guys? You couldn’t understand why he hadn’t retaliated, it’s not like he hadn’t been shot at before. He could dodge bullets, hell he could reflect them with his arm, so why didn’t he seem to be attacking?  
  
Then you heard it, a single word.  
  
“Sputnik.”  
  
Followed by a much louder thud.  
  
And that was when the man restraining you delivered a punch to your left temple and your world faded to black as you hit the wooden floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little factoid: the dork tank top that Bucky is given is something I actually own. I found it at the back of my cupboard the other day and decided that I had to include it in here somehow because the mental image of him in it was too priceless. :')


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch, this was painful to write to say the least but it had to be done. :')

“The captive is regaining consciousness, sir.”  
  
The words sound distant in Bucky’s disorientated state. He forces his eyes open and takes in his surroundings as best he can. The room is dark and dimly lit for the most part and it is vaguely reminiscent of one he knows he’s been in before but they’re not one and the same.  
  
His instincts kick in and he begins to assess the situation. How long had he been knocked out? _The room has no windows, there’s no way to judge._ How many people surround him? _Six in view, they’re all dressed in some type of lab coats._ If he could get free are there any weapons in close proximity? _None in plain sight but at least two or three people must be armed as a precaution._ Escape routes? _Two doors, no ventilation shafts._  
  
He tries to move only to discover that he’s restrained in some kind of vertical device, thick metal shackles trap his outstretched arms and legs whilst another even thicker one encircles his waist.  
  
There’s footsteps approaching now and a man emerges from the shadows. Bucky doesn’t recognise him but considering the circumstances logic leads him to the conclusion that he’s back in the hands of those who forced him to do their murderous bidding. The man stops a few feet away before leaning forward slightly into his face.  
  
“Зимний Солдат.”  
  
An image of the girl saying those same words suddenly flashes through Bucky’s mind with maddening clarity and a silence spins out as the man before him waits for a response.  
  
“Or do you prefer English after your little venture into the world?” The Russian accent is still very evident in his voice.  
  
Bucky looks him dead in the eyes as he responds, “I don’t answer to you regardless of the language.” He finds that his throat is painfully dry and the words are husky but the sense of defiance comes across loud and clear.  
  
The man ignores Bucky’s words and instead looks him up and down. “You’ve lacked our supervision for a little over two weeks and you’re already dressing like one of them? You look ridiculous, soldier.” A revolting sneer spreads across his face. “ _She_ gave you the clothes, yes?”  
  
Bucky’s reaction is instant. He locks eyes with the man before him, his glare intense and unwavering.  
  
“Oh yes, we’ve been tracking and observing you from afar for a while so we’ve seen your little girlfriend.” He chuckles mockingly, beginning to pace back and forth slowly.  
  
“You dare hurt her and I’ll show you what kind of fire you’ve been playing with.” The sound of Bucky’s voice was as cold and heavy as lead.  
  
The man stops, turns on his heels and comes close to Bucky’s face again. “You’re in no position to be making threats. ‘Fire we’ve been playing with?’ We know exactly who and what you are Winter Soldier, we made you and you’d be wise to remember it.” He backs off again. “Besides, we have no plans to hurt her. Instead we hope that you’ll be the one to do that.”  
  
Bucky opens his mouth to reply but is cut off abruptly as the man finally introduces himself.  
  
“I am Doctor Kosmanov, it was written in the will of the late Alexander Pierce that in the event of his death I should begin to follow er, how do you say? …Backup plan, that’s it. A backup plan he set in place to ensure that HYDRA’s New World Order is still realised. Today we will set it into motion with phase one.”  
  
Kosmanov turns to one of the people in lab coats, gives a brief nod and watches as they scurry to a nearby table. He turns back to Bucky, walking closer until he is on his right hand side. He reaches out and touches his captive’s remaining human arm. Bucky rattles the restraints, wanting nothing more than to break out of them and pummel this man’s face into the floor with his metal fist until it was nothing left but mush and blood.  
  
The lab coat lackey returns to Kosmanov carrying a hypodermic syringe and stands to his left, awaiting further instruction.  
  
“It seems we may have been taking the wrong approach with you, soldier. We may have been a little too soft on you and in turn our efforts were not entirely fruitful. This will no longer be the case.” The Russian man’s tone was now deadly serious and his expression as firm as stone.  
  
Another nod and the man with the needle takes Kosmanov’s place at Bucky’s side. He removes the cap from the syringe, locates an appropriately prominent vein in the arm before him and slides the not inconsiderable hollow needle into it before pushing down on the plunger. The sickly yellow coloured substance drains slowly from the chamber into Bucky’s body and the needle is withdrawn.  
  
Bucky grits his teeth but keeps his lips held firmly together, the liquid feels white hot as it crawls through him but he refuses to give these people the pleasure of seeing him in pain. No doubt they’d get some kind of sick and twisted kick out of witnessing him groan and curse. Not today.  
  
Kosmanov stands off to the side and observes his captive for a few minutes, watching his reactions and expressions. He is aware that they cannot afford to fuck up this process and that everything needs to be done just right or else they risk failure. The plan is intricate and one missing screw could cause the whole structure to crumble.  
  
Finally another nod is given, this time to a woman who is stood next to a control panel. She presses a few things and a mechanical sound starts up from above the containment device.  
  
Sirens blare in Bucky’s mind. He knows that sound. Straining his neck upwards he sees a machine lowering from the ceiling and utter fear floods through him.  
  
“You remember this, yes?” Kosmanov shouts a little to be heard over the noise.  
  
Two metal plates come to rest on either side of Bucky’s head. His breathing grows rapid and his chest heaves up and down. He also begins to feel dizzy and his lips start to tingle.  
He thought he’d never have to go through this again, he thought he was free but here he is, trapped like an animal with no way out, no option other than to endure.  
  
“We’ve made a few adjustments to the process in your absence, we’re very hopeful that it’ll prove to be more effective and helpful to our cause this time around.” Kosmanov backs up to a safe distance. “Any last words soldier? I doubt you’ll be capable of such a luxury for quite some time after this.”  
  
Bucky’s lips have gone practically numb from how hard he’s pressing them together, the taste of blood fills his mouth as he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. Regardless of all his attempts to stay cold and defiant, his eyes are rimmed with tears. He speaks four words. “Don’t forget the fire.”  
  
Kosmanov grimaces and rolls his eyes before taking his phone from his pocket. He presses a few keys, holds it up to his ear and starts speaking when he hears the other line connect. “Sir, phase one has gone to plan so far and we are at the final stage. Though I call you now because I figured you’d appreciate hearing him scream and yelp like the insubordinate dog that he is.” And then to the woman at the control panel. “Start it up.”  
  
An electrical current is passed through the restraints, stiffening Bucky’s body in an instant and rendering his metal arm completely useless. He prepares himself for what he knows is coming, for the pain. No, there is no preparing for it. The plates begin to close in around his face, preparatory blue sparks dancing on the electrodes inside them.  
  
Kosmanov holds his phone out in anticipation, his mouth curled into a revolting smile.  
  
The plates clamp onto Bucky’s head and face and that’s when the real current is engaged.  
The pain is far worse than he remembers it being, it sears and burns like lightning, it pulsates and expands but also constricts and twists. He can’t hold in his screams, there’s no way to hold back pure agony. His vision goes completely white after about thrity seconds and his hearing starts to fade a second or two after. But the pain persists, the pain is a constant. Blood starts pouring from his nostrils, running over his mouth and dripping off of his chin. He goes on screaming.  
  
Bucky’s last conscious thought before he blacks out is _“Remember her.”_  
  
Kosmanov waves his hand when he sees his prisoner go limp and the woman instantly powers off the machine.  
  
“Did you hear that, sir? He sure has got a pair of lungs on him, hasn’t he? Yes… yes, phase one has been executed flawlessly and was a complete success.” He hangs up the phone and takes a few steps forward to regard his handiwork.  
  
Bucky hangs lifelessly in the restraints, blood already drying and congealing on his face. The smell in the air is acrid; charred flesh, burnt hair and sweat all coming and mixing together over a metallic undertone.  
  
“Fire soon dies if it is deprived of what it needs to survive.”  
  
With that Kosmanov turns and strides to the biggest of the two doors, stopping to speak briefly to a man that Bucky had failed to notice, one of the men dressed from head to toe in black that had brought him here. “Deliver him back to the girl.” He flashes a sinister grin and leaves. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, long time no see AO3!  
> I'm so sorry for not updating anything in so long, there's been a lot of personal shit going on with me lately and it's been seriously messing with my ability to sit down and get stuff written. BUT I'm glad to say that I've been able to kick it in the butt somewhat lately and I managed to get myself back in the groove. :)
> 
> This chapter is so far removed from what I originally had planned that it's not even funny but I'm much more happy with it this way so that's a good thing I guess!
> 
> If you're still interested in this thing then I give you my heartfelt thanks. ^_^ <3

He didn’t know how long his mind had been disengaged, how long he’d been in more or less a state of paralysis but what he did know right now was confusion and mental exhaustion. He couldn’t locate words in his vocabulary accurate enough in nature to describe what it felt like to be almost completely switched off and dissociated from the world yet still be aware of everything going on around him. It was a paradox that he found hard to believe was possible but he’d endured it for hours. Or perhaps it had only been minutes, even seconds? No sense of time existed where ever he’d just broken free from.  
Until the world seemed to flicker back into existence before him all at once he hadn’t been completely sure if his optical nerves had stopped functioning or if he had been staring into complete darkness the entire time. His senses were overwhelmed as his surroundings came swimming into view. The pain in his head was horrendous, enough to make him grimace and squeeze his eyes closed, gritting his teeth together tightly. Opening them again when he felt able he slowly took in the room around him, squinting slightly as his still awakening brain struggled to process the information. He couldn’t recall what had happened or why he was in such pain.   
  
Bucky groaned, or rather he would have if his vocal chords had allowed him, instead only a hoarse breath escaped his dry throat. He rose to his feet, leaning against the wall behind him for support. His legs ached so badly, his muscles practically screaming at him as they were forced to work again. Looking around he saw that the room was very dark after all, the only illumination coming in through the window from a street lamp a little ways down from the building. The average person would have been practically blind but as soon as his superior night vision started to kick in it allowed him to see the essentials and begin to navigate his way through it.  
  
 _Got to move_. He told himself as he limped his way to the door set into the far wall, moving as fast as his legs would carry him. He couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t imminent danger lurking in the shadows and preferred not to run the risk of staying in one position for longer than he had to. A moving target was always harder to hit after all. He still didn’t quite possess the coordination to be as stealthy as he probably could be so rather than silently slip through the crack he opened in the door he pretty much stumbled through it, although luckily not falling.   
  
The first thing to catch his attention was the faintest hint of light reflecting off of a shiny surface to his immediate left on the wall. After taking a brief moment to assess for any threat in this new room he turned towards it. _A mirror_. In the darkness he recognized the shape of a light on the wall just above it’s edge and reached up over the counter in front of it to yank the pull-cord. A soft yellow glow flooded the small room and Bucky had no choice but to shield his eyes with his arm, they were too used to the dark to cope with the assaulting change in brightness all at once. After roughly ten seconds or so he lowered it again and the first thing he laid eyes upon was a man looking back at him from within the mirror before him.  
  
In his still dazed and confused state the sight genuinely startled him for a second before the obvious struck him. _It’s just my reflection, that’s me._ The thought resonated in his mind for a while, echoing around in the voids where his memories and identity had been long stripped away, replaced with vast chasms of gut wrenching frustration and anger. It felt wrong for him to be able to recognize himself, it felt like a sin to see his own face. He placed his hands on the cool surface of the counter, one making a sound as it connected whilst the other remained rightfully silent, and leaned in closer to his image.  
  
His face from the nose downward and also his neck were caked in a crumbling dark red, almost brown substance that flaked off at even the slightest movement. _Blood_ , Bucky thought. _My blood. Why?_ His brain held no answer to this question but logic offered that it was somehow related to the throbbing pain in his skull. His gaze continued down his body, following the gory trail until he reached the shirt he was wearing and the white letters printed onto it’s teal fabric.   
_D O R K? I don’t understand._ Neither did he have time to try to either, like a sledgehammer an excruciating pain hit him square in the forehead. This time he was able to make a vocalize, a shout of agony tore it’s way up from his lungs as his hands shot up to grip his head. The sheer magnitude and blunt force of the pain caused Bucky to collapse forwards, sprawling his upper body over the counter. His face pressed flat against it’s surface, his rapid, heavy breathing creating a sheen of condensation in the vicinity of his mouth.  
  
Somewhere someone was speaking, too quiet to be heard clearly. The words weren’t coming from anyone else and this became all too apparent as they started to get louder much too quickly. The words were in Bucky’s head, seeming to come from the searing sensation itself. Thoughts that weren’t his own floated to the forefront of his mind, hovering there, spoken in a commanding voice that refused to be ignored.  
  
 **HER.  
  
THE GIRL.**  
  
 **SHE’S A THREAT.**  
  
 **SHE’S A LIAR.**  
  
His eyes flew open wide. _Her? Why does that sound familiar?_  
  
 **SHE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU.**  
  
 **SHE THINKS YOU’RE PATHETIC.**  
  
 **SHE LAUGHS AT YOU.**  
  
“SHUT UP!!” Bucky roared. He launched his left fist out in front of him, shattering the mirror into thousands of shards. The pain suddenly lessened to a much more bearable level and he looked up at his now fractured reflection. It seemed fitting, he felt like he was falling apart from the inside out. He watched as fresh blood dripped from his nose, slowly making it’s way to his chin where it clung for a moment before dripping to the counter. The words had ceased too but he could still feel the presence of whatever, whoever, was putting them there, like a steady buzz of static ever threatening to become deafening again.  
  
The world seemed to disintegrate around him and next thing he knew Bucky was standing in front of a door at the end of a hallway. Something was seriously messing with him, he realised that now. Perhaps even controlling him. He hadn’t consciously moved here. His hand reached out of it’s own accord and grabbed the handle. He tried desperately to fight against it, gritting his teeth and using every ounce of his will power to stop himself from turning it and pushing open the door but he was weak and his efforts were fruitless.  
  
His feet carried him into the room and that’s when he saw her. There was a girl laying on her back in the middle of the floor, she looked unconscious. Another horrific sharp stab of white hot fire burned itself through Bucky’s head but it didn’t last this time and as he recovered from it he focused his attention on the female before him. He felt drawn to her form, laying there prone and unresponsive. He couldn’t be sure if his next movements were his own or not as he walked over to her, kneeling down at her side. The static in his head grew louder but no voices came forth from it just yet.   
  
Looking down at her face he felt a longing urge and an intense frustration. There were images buried in his mind, my god there were _memories_. Memories of this girl that were trying so hard to claw their way to the surface and present themselves to him. He could almost feel them rise up, getting so close but then sinking back at the last hurdle. If only he could reach out somehow, take a hold of them and haul them up but he couldn’t, they slipped away much too fast. He clenched his jaw shut tight and balled his hands into fists at his side. He needed to get out of this, break out of whatever was happening to him but he hadn’t the slightest clue how to fight against something he couldn’t identify, something that seemed to be within him, snaking it’s way through his head.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took WAY longer than I expected mainly because I ended up rewriting it 3 times! -_-  
> I fully intended to have the reader wake up at the beginning of this chapter and switch back to her POV but.. it just wasn't working out and it really didn't feel right so I decided to keep her knocked out and continue to write it more from Bucky's perspective. I must have gotten to about 950 words when I decided to delete it all and start over again.   
> Thank god I did cus this came out a lot better and ended up leading to better things than it otherwise would have. ^_^
> 
> Big things are to follow... ;)

Bucky stood and gazed down at the girl for quite some time, observing her with a mixture of intrigue and slight apprehension. He still didn’t know who she was after all, only that he recognized her in some distant way. She looked as though she was trying to fight her way out of the veil of unconsciousness, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, her facial muscles twitching, etc, but he estimated she wouldn’t be fully awake for at least a few more hours.  
  
 **DO IT.**  
  
 **BEFORE SHE WAKES UP.**  
  
 **SHE WON’T FEEL A THING.**  
  
 **MERCY.**  
  
 _Mercy? Huh, yeah right._ He balled his hands into tight fists at his sides. He refused to hurt her, no matter how much the words in his head tried to convince him, no matter how much pain coursed it’s way through his body, he refused simply because one of the few vivid, coherent thoughts that he could muster, that he knew was fully his own anyway, was that she was important and mustn’t come to any harm via his or anyone else’s hands. He didn’t know why he felt so protective over her, he only knew that he did and that he was damn sure he was going to cling on to that instinct for dear life.  
  
 _I should move her._ He knew all too well what it felt like to regain consciousness on a flat, hard surface, not knowing how long you’ve been there or even what happened to you. It isn’t a pleasant experience in the slightest.  
Bucky bent down, gathered her up in his arms and set off into the dark apartment to search for an appropriate place to put her, a bed would be ideal of course. To him she weighed almost nothing which made navigating the rooms and opening doors when needed very easy indeed, he could simply support her with one hand. He also used the opportunity to scope out his surroundings; counting exit and entrance points, plotting the quickest escape route from any one room and generally creating a mental map for future use.  
  
At last he came to what he presumed was her room, a large and luxuriously comfy looking bed sat against the right hand wall. An audible groan slipped out of his mouth at the sight of it, he ached all over, his body well past the point of exhaustion, frankly he’d love nothing more than to collapse onto it and sleep for 24 hours straight.  
 _No. Alert and awake._ This voice was definitely his, barking orders to himself.  
  
 **ALERT.**  
  
 **AWAKE.**  
  
That one on the other hand was not. Was this thing mocking him? It certainly felt that way.  
  
Bucky gently lowered the girl onto the bed, grabbed the blanket that was laying across the foot of it and brought it up around her. It wouldn’t do for her to get a chill and become ill. He needed her to tell him anything she could about him, why and how he seemed to know her, just… anything.  
He had however become aware that his mind wasn’t as blank as he’d first thought, he remembered some things although they seemed very random and sporadic, often useless pieces of information and brief flashes of images long past. He also got the sensation that this wasn’t the first time that he’d experienced this loss of memory and that was one of the most frustrating things of all. Not being able to remember not remembering.  
  
Something new came to him then. A memory like a film reel. He and the girl were in the room that he’d woken up in, if waking up is what you could even call it, she had her hands on his cheeks, looking him in the eyes and speaking to him. Telling him something important, something that had mattered.  
He closed his eyes, not something he’d usually feel comfortable with doing in an unfamiliar environment but he needed to decipher her words. Concentrating as hard as he could manage he was able to extract most of it:  
  
  
  
 _[‘You’re not anything close to resembling a monster…’_  
  
 _‘…you’re J———s Bu——a———— B———es…’_  
  
 _‘…and from what I’ve heard about you, you’re a good man.’]  
  
_  
  
 _A good man?_ That was almost laughable, he certainly didn’t feel like one. _And was that a name? My God, was it my name?_  
  
 **ASSET.**  
  
 **WEAPON.**  
  
 **WINTER SOLDIER.**  
  
As much as Bucky didn’t appreciate and was growing tired of these intrusions his attention lingered on those last two words. _Winter Soldier._ They struck at something within him, something familiar, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Neither could he afford to try to either, he’d had his eyes closed for much longer than he would have liked and was in imminent danger of falling asleep. Snapping them open he came to realize that at some point his legs must have given way and he’d sat down on the edge of the bed. Hesitating for the briefest of moments he reached out with his right hand to skim along the top of the duvet, finding that it was as soft as it looked, appearing to be stuffed plentifully with feathers of some kind.  
  
He glanced to the girl, she was more than likely not out cold at this point but rather sleeping off the exhausting ordeal she’d no doubt been through. As he continued to look at her an urge swept through Bucky like a tsunami, an urge to be closer to her.  
His brows furrowed.  _Why would I want that?_  
  
 **YOU DON’T.**  
  
 **STAND.**  
  
 **KNIFE.**  
  
 **ELIMINATE TARGET.**  
  
That was all the reasoning he needed. If whatever was messing with his head didn’t want him any closer to her then he’d damn well make sure to get as close as he dared. As he made his way around to the opposite side of the bed he mused upon how easy it was becoming to ignore the intrusive shouts and commanding whispers, he also found, to his pleasant surprise, that his head barely hurt any more.  
  
Bucky slid onto the bed, his not inconsiderable weight causing him to slowly sink down into the mattress, the springs creaking and groaning. Every fiber in his body was begging him to lay down, to rest, to relax but he was still so acutely wary that a threat could make itself known at any point so he remained upright, sitting with his arms crossed, legs outstretched and his back against the headboard. He kept his senses focused and sharp, a lapse in a single one of them could very possibly mean death.  
Safe to say then that when the sound of rustling came from his immediate left it made him jump considerably and sit up straight, instantly on high alert and ready to pounce. Though he soon calmed when he discovered that it had been the girl turning to face him in her sleep. Calm and relief quickly turned into confusion, and… something else entirely that he couldn’t identify, as she reached out and stretched her arm over his left thigh, her hand lazily sought out and found a grip on it and for good measure she also nuzzled her face up against the side of it. Bucky barely dared to even breathe. Why had she done that? Was it for comfort perhaps? Was he being mistaken for a pillow of all things? Was she cold and seeking out the closest source of heat? He couldn’t say for sure but he knew that he was grateful for the sensation of physical contact even if it had essentially been a subconscious act, he felt a need for it, no not a need, a longing.  
  
 **LIAR.**  
  
 **YOU LONG FOR NOTHING.**  
  
For the first time in what felt like an eternity Bucky’s lips curled into a smile as he relaxed once more against the headboard of the bed and spoke aloud into the darkness. “That right there is the real lie.”  
  
  
————————  
  
  
“Sir, we have the progress report.”  
  
Kosmanov swiveled in his chair, turning away from the window to face the young man who stood on the opposite side of his desk. The kid barely looked a day older than twenty and he was visibly uneasy in the doctor’s presence, shuffling his feet and biting the inside of his cheek nervously.  
  
“And what is the current situation with our little toy soldier?” Kosmanov asked chuckling slightly, obviously delighting in speaking the mocking nickname for Bucky almost as if he’d been waiting for the opportunity.  
  
A brief pause which the younger of the two used to gather enough courage to continue. “To put it frankly he isn’t responding, sir. The footage from the cameras that the Strike team planted shows him making no attempt to attack the girl.” He lowered his eyes as he finished speaking, fearing the man’s reaction.  
  
There was no reaction, not an outward manifestation of one anyway. Kosmanov simply brought a hand to his chin and stroked it, thinking but not looking at all worried or troubled. “My guess is he is protecting her, yes?”  
  
“That’s right, sir. The last I saw, he was guarding her as she slept.”  
  
“Very well then.” He stood up suddenly, causing the younger man to jolt backwards a little. Kosmanov couldn’t lie to himself, he very much reveled in being feared by those so far beneath him. “I shall give the order and set in motion phase 2 of the plan.” He spoke nonchalantly, turning to straighten up a nearby stack of various papers and documents.  
  
The young man gaped at his superior. “F-forgive me sir, but the asset isn’t responding to the prompts at all. Surely moving to phase 2 would be fruitless at this point?”  
  
The HYDRA leader whipped his neck around to focus on his subordinate so fast that there was an audible click. “Know your place, recruit. You question me and my understanding of the situation? The girl was a test, she isn’t of any value to us as a target.” Kosmanov grew quiet for a moment, seemingly hit by a wave of inspiration. “Though… that’s not to say that she won’t be of any use at all if what you say about it seeming as though he’s grown attached to her is accurate. Yes, she may yet prove to be very useful to us indeed. But for now we prepare to move forward. Now we set our sights on our real target.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: I fucked up. Remember how one of the Strike guys that came and took Bucky knocked reader out with a blow to the temple? Yeeeah, so I was just doing some research before starting to write this chapter about waking up from unconsciousness and basically everything I came across said that if you’re out for hours from something like that then you’re likely to have brain damage and all kinds of bad stuff.  
> I didn’t know that at the time so I’m gonna have to go back to that chapter and change the cause of her unconsciousness.  
> I just wanted to make that clear so that nobody gets confused by any mention of anything different in this chapter. ^_^

The first of your senses to come back was your hearing, everyday mundane sounds began to register in your brain through a slightly echoed haze; traffic passing on the road outside, birds chirping their idle songs, even the drone of a plane cruising far overhead.  
  
 _Got to try and open my eyes…_  
  
Even the thought itself was daunting. You felt like they’d been closed for so long and knew that cracking them open again would be painful but you couldn’t just lay there forever. It took a lot of effort, not to mention courage, but you gritted your teeth and allowed them to slowly ease open a little at a time. The world seemed blindingly bright, the offending light making your eyes sting but you had to persevere, get them to adjust bit by bit.  
  
And that they did, slowly but surely. What at first appeared to you as nothing more than blurry shapes gradually focused and hardened into sharpened edges and discernible objects. Looking around you became aware of the fact that you were in your room, laying on your bed to be precise.  
  
 _How did I get in here? Pretty sure those assholes wouldn’t have given a crap whether I came to comfortably or not._   
  
You began to muster up the required strength to try and haul yourself up when you noticed you had your arm wrapped around something, not a pillow or part of your duvet, this was something solid. It took you a moment or two to process what it was.  
  
 _Is that… is that a fucking leg?_  
  
Your neck gave a jolt of pain as you quickly turned your head upwards to discover who the mystery limb was attached to.   
  
“…Bucky?”  
  
The utter relief that flooded your body was instant and all encompassing, spreading through your every vein like liquid metal. He was sat up against the headboard, his head leaning back against the wall above it with his eyes closed. Looking to his chest you observed it rising and falling steadily in the manner typical of someone who’s in a deep sleep. Of course the liberal coating of what appeared to be dried blood on him caused you a decent amount of concern but all that mattered to you at that moment was that he was there. There and alive. A small smile found it’s way to your lips accompanied by a feeling of warmth in your chest as you realized that he must have been the one to have found and moved you, no doubt carrying you in his arms.   
  
As much as you would have liked to have enjoyed that mental image for a little while longer you knew you had to get on your feet, the sooner the better.   
You slowly eased yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed, wincing as your body protested and vertigo set in. The urge to close your eyes was almost overwhelming but you refused to give in to it, grasping onto the edge of the mattress for support as you rode out the waves of dizziness until eventually, you felt able to try and stand up. As you began to brace yourself for the inevitable struggle you barely had time to register the rustling of sheets behind you before your wrist was enveloped in a cold grip.   
  
The smile was back on your lips before you’d even turned around fully to find Bucky sat up, his left arm extended, the cold sensation on your skin of course emanating from his metal fingers. He released you quickly upon seeing that he had your attention and you noticed his eyes wander over you, most likely checking for injuries. He seemed satisfied with his observations and returned his gaze to your face.  
  
The strangest thing happened. Neither of you said anything, instead the two of you just sat and looked at each other for what felt like a long time. Bucky’s expression was hard to define but if you’d have been asked to try then you’d have said it was a bizarre mixture of intrigue, confusion, relief and shock. He was looking at you like you were a mirage whilst at the same time trying to figure out what in the hell a mirage was and if he even knew at all.  
  
“You okay sleepyhead?” The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them back in.  
  
 _Urgh, really? I never fail to disappoint myself I swear to god._  
  
You noticed the muscles around Bucky’s eyes twitch slightly before he slowly nodded. He opened his mouth as if he was about to speak but you interjected.  
“Shhh, whatever it is we can talk about it over breakfast, okay? I think we could both appreciate some food right now.” You felt like a jerk for cutting him off like that but it was true, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten and you highly doubted that HYDRA would have been so hospitable as to feed him anything.  
  
Bucky just sat there, his mouth still open slightly. You couldn’t resist the temptation and before you knew it your thumb was on his chin, applying gentle upward pressure on his lower jaw until he took the hint and closed it. His expression maintained the same emotions as before, those eyes of almost otherworldly blue looking at you intently. You took your hand away and mused on the fact that he hadn’t flinched away from your touch in the slightest.  
  
You decided it was now or never and took the plunge, finally pushing yourself off of the bed and standing up. Although you struggled a little to maintain your balance at first your body quickly adjusted and you turned back to look at Bucky still sat there amongst your rumpled sheets.   
  
_Damn, if Steve were to walk through the door right now I’d have a hard time explaining to him that this unfortunately isn’t what it looks like._ A slight frown came to your brows. _Unfortunately? Woah, calm down girl._   
  
Your eyes dropped to the teal tank top that Bucky was still wearing, of course now stained with blood. “Feel free to have a rummage through the wardrobe for another shirt, there should be plenty that’ll fit you, then maybe go clean yourself up a little in the bathroom if you want. I’ll be in the kitchen, okay?” You offered him a warm smile once you’d finished speaking.  
  
 _God, I sound like I’m ordering him around…_  
  
Luckily he didn’t seem to take it that way and nodded again, his attention shifting to the wardrobe in the corner.  
  
You left the room and intended to head straight to the kitchen, that was until your bladder decided to suddenly make you aware that there were more pressing issues to take care of, so you altered course and half ran into the bathroom. Only after you’d relieved yourself and moved to the sink to wash your hands did you notice the shattered mirror on the wall above it. Thousands of intersecting lines forming yet thousands more segments spreading out from a single, deep fist-shaped indent roughly in the center. _Did Bucky do this? Why?_  
  
You weren’t pissed about the mirror, you’d never liked it anyway and had been looking for an excuse to get a new one for quite some time. What concerned you was that he seemed so calm sat there on your bed, the thought of him smashing his fist into anything was in such stark contrast with that current demeanor. On the other hand he was caked in what was no doubt his own blood so surely something horrendously far from being pleasant must have befallen him whilst he’d been gone? God knows what state he’d been in before you’d woken up, it was probably very safe to assume that he hadn’t exactly been anything close to the definition of chipper.  
  
You washed your hands thoroughly, exited the bathroom and walked the short distance to the kitchen area. Whilst having your much needed pee-stop you’d developed a sudden craving for, and become neigh on hellbent on making, pancakes. As you began fishing out the required ingredients and materials needed the unmistakable sound of hangers sliding along the rail in your wardrobe followed by a clatter as something fell to the floor caught your attention.  
  
Then came a muffled “Дерьмо.”  
  
You couldn’t hold back the undignified snort of laughter, the mental image of Bucky ferreting through your clothes and swearing when what was no doubt something from the mound of crap balanced below them fell out was just beyond priceless.   
  
Roughly five minutes later you heard him walk down the hall and enter the bathroom behind you, by that point you were busy with the stove so your back was turned to him. You wondered if he’d notice the mirror and remember what happened or not, and if you should ask him about it or not. God dammit, you weren’t looking forward to this conversation but to say that it was important that it happened was a huge understatement. You needed to fill in as many blanks as you could and you could only presume that he did too.   
  
You finished up with the pancakes, easing an equal amount onto two plates and setting them down on your small breakfast bar, then stopped mid step. _To syrup or not to syrup?_ You knew damn well that you wanted some but would Bucky? Fishing it out of the fridge you decided it was probably best to leave his serving dry rather than dousing it with something he quite possibly didn’t like. You applied a generous helping to your own stack and placed the bottle on the surface between your plates.  
The bathroom door clicked opened just as you sat down and reached over to the drawer beside you to grab some knives and forks. _A+ timing there, soldier._  
  
You looked over to him as he approached and were pleased to see that he’d taken care of the prom-scene-from-Carrie situation he’d had going on though you noticed that the skin of his left temple still looked rather red but, all in all, he definitely looked a damn sight better than he had. You then took the chance to observe his choice of clothing; he’d picked out a simple gray t-shirt but holy hell, it fit him like a glove. Clinging to everything you could possibly with for a shirt to cling to. The jeans were the same ones you’d given to him before but they seemed to have avoided getting dirty so you figured they should last him a good few days. Besides who puts on fresh jeans everyday, really?  
  
“Hope you like pancakes?” You said cheerfully, patting the stool beside you.   
  
He closed the remaining distance between you and lowered himself onto it, the not entirely sturdy nor robust structure groaning under his weight. For a split second you panicked in case it decided to give way. The last thing you needed right now was to have Bucky Barnes fall off of your stupid cheap ass kitchen furniture and end up sprawled on his back on the linoleum. Quite honestly you wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Probably an indecent mixture of the two.   
Thankfully it quit it’s complaining and seemed to be holding, you mentally prayed that that would remain the case.  
  
“I do. Thank you.”  
  
 _Huh? Oh. Pancakes, duh._ You’d been so preoccupied with the whole imaginary stool dilemma that you’d completely forgotten that you’d even asked him a question. “No problem, dig in.” You stuttered out, picking up your fork and beginning to eat.  
  
You both ate in silence for a while, the only sound filling the air for the most part being that of cutlery on porcelain. Although you couldn’t help but smile to yourself when Bucky took the syrup bottle, only after seeking a nod of permission from you, and squirted a fair amount over his breakfast, honestly you should have guessed. You wanted to spark the all important conversation but you just couldn’t figure out how, that was so out of character for you that it pissed you off slightly. Every time you thought you’d come up with something suitable it just hung there on your tongue like some kind of shitty aftertaste you couldn’t get rid of.  
  
Bucky shifted slightly on his stool beside you. _Fuck, don’t move too much dude. You have no idea how close you are to going ass over teakettle right now._ Luckily the pressure was taken off of you as Bucky himself initiated proceedings.  
  
“Did they hurt you?” He asked with what sounded like genuine concern in his voice.  
  
The break in the quiet startled you somewhat at first. “Erm, no not really. I mean they knocked me out with some sort of tranquilizer I think but it’s not like they beat me up or anything.” Honestly you couldn’t understand why the first thing he’d think to say or ask would be concerning the Strike Team’s, who you had began to affectionately refer to simply as The Wankers, treatment of you but you decided it would be wise not to divulge your curiosity, he probably just didn’t know what else to say after all. “What about you? Where did they take you?”  
  
Bucky visibly stiffened, as if a cold breeze had crawled it’s way up his back. He seemed to be struggling with pinning down the right words, or any words at all for that matter, the vertical line of concentration making an appearance between his brows. “I don’t know. I don’t remember what they did to me either.”  
  
You felt your heart drop. _'I don’t remember.' That right there says it all doesn’t it? Shit._  
  
He continued, unaware that you were working to slowly piece things together for him. “I do remember waking up. Over there.” He pointed to the far corner of the living room area and you couldn’t help but shudder, the idea that they’d bring him back here and prop him up in a corner like some sort of discarded marionette was undeniably creepy to you. “I went into the bathroom and started hearing voices giving me orders. That’s when I punched your mirror.” He glanced sideways at you quickly and apologetically. “I’m sorry.”  
  
You almost laughed but managed to hold it back, aware of how ridiculously insensitive that would be. But holy shit, he was apologizing for breaking a stupid mirror seconds after confessing to hearing voices. _Bucky Barnes you absolute gem._ “Honestly, I really don’t care about the mirror, it’s fine. What I care about right now is what these ‘voices’ were ordering you to do.” You spoke with as much care as you could, trying not to sound in any way accusatory or demeaning.   
  
He took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then exhaled. “They told me to… to hurt you, they said that you’re a threat and a liar.” It was apparent from his tone that he felt a considerable amount of shame and disgust towards himself as he said this, almost as if it physically pained him to do so.  
  
 _Well. How am I supposed to respond to that? Okay, shit let’s start with the obvious._ “So why didn’t you? Hurt me, that is.” You set your fork down on the surface beside your now empty plate, if you kept it in your hand you’d probably start fiddling with it out of nervousness, people had made you more than aware that was a bad habit of yours.  
  
Bucky shrugged but the way his shoulders rose and fell made it very clear that it was far from being a nonchalant or dismissive action. “I just knew that I shouldn’t. I don’t know what it was but something, something other than the voices I mean, told me to resist and to keep you safe.” He looked down at his hands, now also empty and resting in his lap. “Safe from me or anyone else that would try to hurt you.”  
  
And to think you thought it had been hard to come up with something to say before? Jesus Christ. You reached out and placed your hand on his left forearm, the metal plating of it’s surface instantly cooling your palm in a soothing, rather pleasant way. You were about to thank him, the only thing you could think to do but apparently he wasn’t done yet.  
  
“What I really don’t understand is why would they bring me here? And why would I feel… protective over someone I’ve never met before? Or… at least that I don’t think I have.”   
  
His words shocked and saddened you. You’d pretty much figured out that they’d fucked with his memory again so why hadn’t it occurred to you that he wouldn’t remember being here before? _Dammit, I’m so stupid! They don’t want me to help him so they wiped me from his memory and tried to turn him against me._ It made more sense the more you thought about it. _But he remembered Steve on the helicarrier when he said something specific to him, right? His memories aren’t gone, they’re just… suppressed I guess? Hidden? Perhaps if I say or do the right thing it’ll trigger the same response._ It was a fair assumption and probably the best shot you had.  
  
“We have met before, you really don’t remember?” You inquired gently, your hand still resting on his left arm, a sight that Bucky seemed to have taken a degree of fascination in.  
  
He simply shook his head distractedly in response, hair swaying against the sides of his face. God, he really didn’t want to take his eyes off of your hand. Was he suspicious of it in case you really were a ‘liar’ and a ‘threat’? Somehow you didn’t think that was it, his expression didn’t give that impression at all, instead he looked intrigued, and hell, even captivated.  
  
You’d already decided what you were going to try, you figured it had probably been the weightiest moment the two of you had shared in the brief time before he’d been taken. _Screw it, no time like the present… right?_ You pushed your stool back and stood up, being careful not to be too hasty with your movements just in case he did hold any suspicion and who could blame him really? You assumed that most people wouldn’t trust anyone ever again if they’d had to experience even a tenth of the shit Bucky had.  
  
Bucky’s eyes followed your movements as you carefully closed the already tiny distance between you until you were only inches away. The only good thing about your otherwise crappy stools was that the seat part was able to swivel like an office chair. Why anyone would need such capabilities in a kitchen had always been beyond your understanding but you’d fell for the gimmick hook line and sinker considering it was pretty much the only reason you’d ended up settling on them. And boy were you glad that you had now? Placing a hand on Bucky’s left shoulder you applied the required pressure in order to turn him until he was facing you.  
  
“What are you doing…?” He asked calmly, hardly any sign of concern in his voice. He only had to turn his face up slightly to look at you.  
  
You smiled warmly, “Seeing if I can help you remember.” And with that said you stepped as close as you physically could to him, stooped down a little and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, your head resting against the side of his. Bucky went rigid instantly, it felt like hugging a statue.   
_What else did I do?_ You scoured your brain trying to recall little details of the embrace you were aiming to emulate as closely as you could. _Ah, I know!_  
You brought one of your hands up to the back of his head and began stroking his hair gently, encountering surprisingly few tangles. He seemed to soften a little at that, becoming less tense against you. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but deeply inhale his natural scent permeating from his skin, you were pleased to find that it was just as intoxicating as before.   
  
_Words. Words are how Steve did it. What should I say?_ You continued stroking his hair as you tried to think. _Fuck me, why can’t I think of anything I said to him? All I can think of is laughing at him in that stupid tank top. Jesus, that really doesn’t seem funny any more._ You were so entrenched in the task of sifting through your memories that the feeling of Bucky’s arms sliding up and around your back caught you completely off guard. You very nearly shrieked in surprise but were thankfully able to stop yourself, managing to keep the scope of your reaction to little more than a small reflexive jolt.  
  
“Bucky?” His name came out as scarcely more than a whisper but his body reacted to it all the same, a very distinct twitch shooting through him, momentarily causing his grip on you to be tightened. _Keep going._ “Bucky, please remember. I hugged you like this before, over there on the couch. You were upset and I was trying to comfort you.” You tightened your own hold on him as you finished speaking, drawing him in closer to you, practically burying your face in his hair.   
  
You heard the dry click of his throat as he swallowed. “You called me something when you first saw me. You recognized me and called me something. What was it?” Bucky’s words came out shaky, unstable, like he was on the verge of something. His question was evidence that your not-far-off-being-a-stab-in-the-dark plan was having some sort of effect.  
  
It only took you a couple of seconds to realize what he was referring to before you put on your best Russian accent and repeated the words you’d spoken to him as he’d held you pinned against the wall with his metal arm, the same one that was now forming part of a completely different hold on you. “зима солдат.”  
  
Instantly his fingers, both metal and flesh, grasped at the material of the sweater on your back like he was clinging on to it for dear life. His breathing coming in sharp, shallow gasps against your ear. That’s all it took for you to know that it’d done the job. He remembered. You let out a long overdue, ragged sigh of relief.  
  
Bucky pulled back, not releasing you from his arms but enough so that he could see your face. His eyes were bloodshot, he hadn’t been crying but it didn’t exactly look like it’d take a whole lot to push him to it. His lips were parted slightly and for what was, rather surprisingly, the first time time you couldn’t help but focus on them. _Has his mouth looked this fucking inviting the whole time or am I only just noticing it? Jesus Christ, most girls I know would kill to have lips like that._  
  
“Pizza.”   
  
It was the last word you’d have expected to hear from Bucky, or anyone really for that matter, right now and it honestly completely stumped you, leaving you staring perplexedly at his mouth. Then the reference hit you and this time you didn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled up. “Yes Bucky, we were gonna have pizza before we were so rudely interrupted. See? You remembered that and I didn’t!” You couldn’t help but practically beam at him and for the first time that you could recall, he smiled back. Tentatively at first, as if it was something he was learning all over again, which, let’s be fair here, isn’t really that shy of the truth. He seemed to get used to it quickly enough though, rediscovering an expression that you were almost certain he hadn’t had much use for since back in the 40’s, and once he did, my god… it lit up his whole damn face.  
  
“I remember now, I remember you. I slept on your sofa and read your books. You were nice to me.” He recounted, like a school boy repeating lines he’d been practicing religiously for his part in the annual play. “You helped me when you had no reason to. Why?”  
  
 _Even I don’t know the answer to that, soldier._ Of course you couldn’t say that to him, not really. “Eh, I guess you could call it instinct. Perhaps the same thing that kept you from hurting me?” _Well, it’s not a lie._  
  
“Perhaps.” Bucky repeated, his smile turning into more of a smirk. _Jesus Christ on a waffle, don’t smirk. A smile I can handle but a smirk… well, a smirk is a whole different type of NOPE._   
  
Out of nowhere you felt a wave of total and utter humiliation and self disappointment wash over you. It must have showed on your face because Bucky let go of you and quickly stood up, as if preparing to pounce on an imminent, incoming threat.  
  
“What’s wrong?” My god, the concern was too real.  
  
You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten up until you went to look at him and found yourself gazing not at his face but his fucking chest clad in that way too nice fitting shirt. Upon correcting your eye line’s course to it’s originally intended destination you explained your sudden realization. “I’ve been the biggest idiot ever. I’ve seriously only just noticed that I never told you my name! Wow, I’m such an ignorant shit!”  
  
Bucky laughed at your outburst, another first. His laughter was not what you’d imagined it’d be like, in fact it was better. Surprisingly light.   
“No, you didn’t but admittedly I made my own up for you whilst I was trying to sleep on the sofa that night.” The bastard had gone and plastered defiance all over his expression, whether it was intentional or not it was a look that you wanted to commit to your memory.   
  
“Oh hell, I dread to think what that could possibly be.” Despite your response being crafted to mask your genuine interest in knowing what he’d been calling you, you felt your cheeks growing warm. The fact that he’d been calling you anything to himself at all was enough to cause that reaction.  
  
“Звезды.” He uttered, his accent flawless.  
  
The Russian translation manual in your head had apparently taken a last minute vacation with nothing but a ‘good luck, loser! xo’ note in it’s place, leaving you unable to decipher what he meant. Seeing your struggle he used his right hand to hike up the sleeve of his opposite arm and tap the red emblem on the metal plates covering the place where his deltoid muscle would have been.  
  
 _Red? Metal? The constellation of fucking Aquarius? I don’t kno- OH._ “Star…? Is that what it means?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.  
  
Bucky nodded, lowering his sleeve again. “I don’t know why exactly but I think it had something to do with your kindness, how warm it felt to me. The one thing I could relate warmth to at that point was the sun, which didn’t seem appropriate so I did a bit of sideways thinking and that’s where Звезды came from. Sorry. Star.”   
  
You could only gape at him, that definitely wasn’t the kind of explanation you’d been expecting. You didn’t know what it was that you had been expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t **that**.  
  
He saved the best for last though, “What sealed the deal was that I’ll never forget it, if I ever feel like I am then all I have to do is look to my left and there it’ll be.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translations:  
> Дерьмо - shit.  
> зима солдат - Winter Soldier.  
> Звезды - star.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's still sticking with this thing, ya'll are the best! :'D <3


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